High Noon, Low Midnight
by Lucida Lownes
Summary: Rogue and Gambit are two Wild West bandits and by a twist of fate have become partners.  But is there more to all of this than what it seems?  AU No powers
1. Chapter 1

**Author Note(s): So, it took me forever to decide if this story would be in X-Men: Evolution due to Rogue's personality or if I should just throw it into the comics (her looks). Rogue, you make things difficult. Overall, comics won because there's a wider variety of characters to pick and choose from.**

**I don't own X-Men. But maybe I should sell this concept to Marvel as an otherverse. Ha.**

Anna Marie Darkholme was not pleased. She sat in her room, looking out over the ranch her family owned. She sighed, brushing back a strand of white hair to mix with her auburn curls. She had just received news that her ever bossy and ambitious mother had arranged her marriage to Joseph Lensherr. She gently straightened out the skirt of a calico dress, considering her possibilities.

She was still young. Fifteen years. She wanted to keep her life to herself as long as possible. She rose and paced the room, thinking. She could gather some things and run. Yes, that seemed to be the best. Her mother, well, there was no attachment. Quickly, she started to gather her things. She grabbed a pair of jeans she wore when working on the ranch and changed to look like a farmhand. She tucked her hair up into her hat and grabbed her belongings and some money. She stealthily climbed out of the window, sitting on the roof above the porch. Her mother would be happily slumbering, considering what she would do with the Lensherr fortune after she had married her daughter off. Anna Marie looked to her brother's window, feeling somewhat bad for leaving him behind. But some things had to be done. She quickly made her way to the ground and managed to sneak into the barn unnoticed. She made her way over to her chestnut mare, Jade. Jade started to protest but Anna Marie immediately started to soothe her.

"Hush now, sugah," she muttered, stroking her nose. "We're gettin' outta here, all right?" The horse seemed to understand and calmed herself, allowing Anna Marie to saddle her. With a soft kick, Anna Marie was into the night, leaving the ranch behind her forever.

* * *

A few years down the road, a handsome man with tousled brown hair sat in a pub, dealing out the cards for an "innocent" poker game. His red on black eyes were unnerving but his smile was disarming. His face was handsome with sharp features, strong cheekbones, and a robust chin.

"Well, are ya gents ready to win or lose some?" He asked in a thick Cajun accent. He brought his cigarette to his mouth, examining the other men around the table. Most of them were downtrodden miners and people looking for hope in the west. Such a shame they were going to learn the hard way that hope does not exist in the good Old West. He'd be happy to teach them too. Flamboyantly showing his cards tricks, they were dealed and ready to be played. And Remy LeBeau was the best player in these parts. Not that he really played. Always had the cards he needed up his sleeve. Of course, all thoughts stopped as someone entered the saloon. His jaw nearly dropped but he remembered to keep his cool and continued to examine the new person while cheating the honest folks from their money.

Remy LeBeau was a lover of women. And this woman was different from most women he'd seen. He guessed she was eighteen years of age but acted older by how she held herself. Her clothing was that of a man and they were dirty and tattered. The once white shirt had taken a slightly beige look from all the dust. The obviously previously brown vest seemed to be nearing black. Her trousers, well, they were gray-blue by now. Around her neck was a green bandana, which lead LeBeau to examine her soft face. Correction. The curves were soft but the expression was fierce. Her luscious red lips were set in a strong line in her tan face while her green eyes blazed dangerously. Her hair was soft russet curls that spilled down her back with a shock of white showing from under her beige cowboy hat. Her boots slammed against the wooden floors as she made her way over to the bar. Remy smirked, tilting his head to the side. He always liked a woman with confidence. He decided and wanted to end the game quickly to get over to the tanned goddess. He was getting tired of these saloon sluts anyway. And without arousing suspicion, he did just that.

He rose from the poker table and stalked over to the woman, examining her. There was just something oh so attractive about a woman in men's clothing. It just showed off their curves in a different, more pleasing manner. Not to mention, it gave a better view of the legs. His mouth began to water as he considered this woman's shapely legs. He walked up behind her as her drink was delivered. He quickly put some money down before she could.

"Dis drink is on me, chere," he purred as he moved beside her.

To say the man had startled her was an understatement. She was sure she would have heard him coming up from behind with how creaky the floorboards were. But no, he had come out of nowhere, laying down the money and giving her a charming smile.

To which she replied with a scowl. She shoved his money away and set hers down.

"Ah can buy mah own drink, Cajun," she informed him sternly. The bartender waited for the two to finish arguing.

"Non, I insist, cherie," the man said. "I jus' won a game of poker an' wanted good company to celebrate wit'."

"Ah definitely ain't good company at the moment," she growled at him. The bartender rolled his eyes and took her money over his, strolling back down the bar.

"Ah, I can't agree wit' dat, chere," he told her. "I'm havin' a fine time." She turned to face him fully, glaring at him darkly. This time she took his appearance in. He was quite handsome and was dressed better than her. He had a maroon jacket on over a slightly off-white shirt with a matching maroon vest. His trousers were dark and she saw the two guns at his side. She checked hers unconsciously. Yes, still there. He had on a scarf tied in a lazy bow-tie that was maroon as well. Over all of it was a brown, worn duster. He had a disarming smile set in strong, chiseled, and tanned features. His brown-auburn hair fell into his eyes and was loose from his ponytail. The most intriguing thing about this man's features though were his red on black eyes. Eyes that seemed to be hiding something. She sighed, taking a sip of her beverage.

"Whaht d'ya want, Cajun?" She asked calmly.

"Dere's many t'ings dis Cajun wants but let's start wit' an exchange of names, oui?" He suggested. "I be Remy LeBeau. Pleasure t' meet a femme as belle as you."

"Thuh name's Rogue," she told him. Remy tilted his head to the side in an amused manner.

"No last name, chere?" He asked.

"Left that all behind meh years ago, Swamp Rat," Rogue informed him. Remy gave her an interested and nearly understanding look.

"Quoi? Don' want anyone findin' ya, cherie?" He asked.

"That is none a' yoahr business," Rogue snapped, finishing off her drink and ordering another one.

"If a damsel be in distress, den I tend t' make it my business," Remy informed her. Rogue glowered at him then let out a slightly defeated sigh.

"Arranged marriage, didn' want it," she told him, leaving it at that. A shock look came across Remy's face.

"Oui, dat I can understand," he said, motioning to the bartender, "completely. Got my life t' live 'fore all dat, y'know? Sides, I'd like de freedom to pick my bride." Rogue looked ay him, surprised. A guy running away from an arranged marriage? Interesting.

"How many years has it been fer ya?" Rogue inquired.

"Oh, it be about five years," Remy informed her. "Et you?"

"Three," Rogue told him, taking a sip of her second drink. Remy followed after her, drinking his own.

"Well, mus' be fate dat we brought toget'er," he jested slightly. "Two people wit' similar pasts." They stared at each other for a moment before the saloon doors burst open.

"Freeze! We're taking your crummy carcass in!" The short and hairy man yelled.

"They found me!" Rogue and Remy said together then looked at each other. "They found you?"

"Well, chere, look like we bot' dealt wit' de Wolvie 'fore," Remy joked as he pulled out his guns. Rogue copied him, twirling one in her right hand.

"More than once, Cajun," she said. "Although, Ah normally deal with Cyke." As if on cue, another man showed up behind the Wolverine. The two contrasted each other completely. While the Wolverine was short and burly, the other man was tall and lean. Wolverine looked like he'd seen one too many shoot outs and his black hair stuck up in two peeks while untamed sideburns framed his angular face. His outfit was worn and faded trousers, brown shirt and black vest with a black hat to boot. Cyclops, as he was known for his red glasses, was lean and well dressed in his black suit coat, clean and crisp white shirt and black tie. His wore black dress pants and held his shining gun up as his slicked back brown hair glistened in the sunlight.

"Anna Marie Darkholme, you are under arrest," he said as his marshal badge glistened.

"How many times have Ah heard that, Cyke?" Rogue snarled, hands itching to draw.

"I take it you're goin' t' take dis Cajun in, Wolvie?" Remy teased lightly. The room had cleared and it was just the four of them, staring each other down. Wolverine took a drag on his cigar, standing in a relaxed but ready posture.

"I think, bub, that's rather obvious," he growled out before tossing the cigar away, pulling out his guns. "Honestly, I find it amusin' yer hangin' out with the Rogue."

"Call it fate, mon ami," Remy teased lightly.

"How 'bout you boys let us leave an' there won't be no trouble," Rogue said.

"No can do, miss," Cyclops stated. "It's my duty to take criminals in as an officer for the Union."

"The bounty on the two o' you is enough to make me live comfortably for three years," Wolverine growled.

"But you prob'ly keep goin' wit' de huntin', oui?" Remy inquired in a jesting tone.

"You know me well, Gumbo," Wolverine stated, firing a shot. Remy avoided it and fired a shot, grazing the man's cheek. Rogue released her bullets and Cyclopes ducked behind the wall.

"C'mon, chere!" Remy said, grabbing her and pulling her behind the bar.

"We're sittin' ducks, Cajun!" Rogue said over the gun fire. Remy smirked a devilish smirk and aimed a shot over the counter.

"No we ain't, chere," he told her, searching the floorboards and lifting some of the boards away. He motioned for her to enter the tunnel which she obliged. He followed close after, making sure the planks were back in place. He grabbed her hand and lead her down the dark passage. They heard the muffled voices of the bounty hunter and marshal as they stormed the saloon, looking for the two. Eventually, they exited by the jail. Remy smirked, thoroughly pleased.

"Where's your horse?" He asked.

"Jade's right by that black one," Rogue said, nodding her head towards the saloon.

"Good t'ing I taught Jack dere how to untie hisself," Remy smirked and gave a low whistle. The black stallion perked his ears up and tugged on the tie with his teeth. He untied it and Remy gave another low whistle but in a different pattern. Jack danced on his feet for a moment then untied Jade in a similar manner. He grabbed her reigns and galloped towards the jail.

"Bon garçon," Remy said, leaping onto Jack's back. He turned back to Rogue. "So, we in dis toget'er?"

"Ain't got much of a choice, Cajun," Rogue replied, mounting Jade. He gave her a roguish smirk and galloped out of town, Rogue following close after him. Wolverine and Cyclops exited the saloon a few moments after the two were out of a sight.

"Once again, they give us the slip," Cyclops sighed, putting his thumbs in his belt loops.

"We both let 'em," Wolverine said gruffly, stepping over to his black and white paint, and mounting it.

"That's true," Cyclops agreed, mounting his white Arabian. "They're a lot more fun than the usual folks." Wolverine smirked slightly.

"Ain't that the truth," he said. "And of course, no one suspects a' thing."

* * *

The two had stopped in the middle of the Western wilderness and had set up camp. Rogue stayed, staring at the stars while Remy made sure the horses were all right. He turned and looked at her, his red eyes examining her.

"So, why dey afta a fille like you?" He asked.

"Ah've done some stealin'," she told him. "And manage ta escape the authorities too many tahmes fer their likin'."

"Ah, seem we more alike dan we t'ought," Remy said, sitting beside her. "I be a t'ief too. Dey know me as Gambit." Rogue gaped at him, shocked.

"Yoahr the Gambit?" She asked.

"Oui, see y' heard a' moi," Remy replied with a cheeky grin.

"Ya only got the biggest reward on yoahr head fer someone who ain't killed nobody!" Rogue told him. The man smirked, his arrogant confidence seeping through his posture.

"I t'ink I heard a' you too, chere," Remy said, thinking. "The Rogue, oui? Y' got a mighty fine reward after you too. Jus' not like moi."

"Yeah, what's it ta ya, Cajun?" Rogue asked sharply. "By the way, yoahr sleepin' on the othah side of the fire."

"Wouldn' 'pect not'in' else, belle," Remy said with a boyish grin, setting up his sleeping pad on the other side of the fire. "So, can I 'pect you ta' be here in de mornin'? Or should I keep an eye on my t'ings?"

"I should be askin' ya the same thing, Swamp Rat," Rogue replied, rolling onto her side. "G'night, LeBeau."

"Bonne Nuit, cherie," Remy replied, putting a hand behind his head and grinning to the stars.

**Author Note(s) cont: So, I'm going to be trying to update this once a week at about 12:00-12:30 AM my time on Mondays. I currently am just wrapping up chapter 2 so let's hope I can keep on the schedule with this story. :D**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author Note(s): Standard disclaimer applies.**

**This was delayed due to having technical difficulties.**

Rogue stirred as she smelled coffee. She slowly sat up and stretched. She grinned slightly as she saw Remy cooking up some breakfast.

"Ah'll be darned," she said "you can cook too?" He sent a winning grin at her.

"I am a man of fine tastes," he stated. "An gruel ain' dat fine, chere." Rogue gave a small chuckle at that and moved over beside him.

"Well good, cause Ah can't cook a darn bit," she told him.

"I'm sure y' got ot'er talents t' make up f' dat," Remy informed her. Rogue gave him a pointed look to which he merely smirked. Rogue rolled her eyes and looked over at the horses.

"Ah guess ya didn't feel lahke takin' off in the nahght," she stated.

"Course not! I never steal from a femme like you!"

"Ah've heard ya stole a necklace right off the neck a' Emma Frost," Rogue stated.

"Oui, mais she can't wield a gun like I know y' can." Rogue gave a genuine laugh at that.

"So, Ah suppose we'll be headin' our seperate ways after breakfast?"

Remy gave her a thoughtful look and said "We don' have t' if y' don' want to." Rogue sent him a questioning look, to which he raised his hands in defense. "'M just thinkin'...We could give 'em hell if we worked together. Sounds like fun, non?"

"So, you wanna be partners?" Rogue asked, giving him a suspicious look.

"F' a while," he told her. "Sometimes it's nice t' have someone watchin' y' back, non?" He held out his hand, waiting for her to take it. Rogue looked at it then looked him in the eye. Slowly, a grin started to spread across her face and she reached out, taking his hand with hers and shaking.

"Looks lahke ya got yoahrself a partner."

* * *

The two quickly left the campsite after breakfast, not wanting to linger too long in case the Wolverine and Cyclops were on their tails. After a while of riding, which involved some light bantering, the two came to a town and decided to restock seeing that they didn't get a chance in the last town. As they were walking down the main road, Remy saw a saloon and gave Rogue a crooked grin, tilting his head towards it.

"What're ya thinkin', Cajun?" Rogue asked as he lead her over to the saloon.

"What can I say? 'M talented at de cards," he replied. He made his way through the smoky room, finding the poker tables. He eased himself into a seat rather easily. Rogue gave a slight roll of her eyes and leaned against the wall behind him. Slowly but surely other members of the table were beaten out. Rogue leaned down close to Remy's ear.

"It seems yoahr just teasin' them," she whispered. Remy ignored the shivers it sent down his spine.

He leaned back and replied "Mebbe I am." He returned to the game, playing his tricks and reading the opponents' faces. Soon it was down to him and burly man with long blonde hair and fierce amber eyes. The tension in the air was thick as these two men fought with cards for the whole pot.

"Let's see what chu got," Remy stated. The man laid out his cards, revealing a straight flush of diamonds. He smirked like a cougar and leaned back. Remy made a tsking sound and a disappointed face. "Dat's a nice hand y' got dere, homme. Mais I t'ink dis one tops..." Remy laid out a royal flush of hearts. "Nice playin' wit you." Remy went to collect the pot when the man grabbed his wrist.

"There's no way in hell you got that! You cheated!" He accused. Suddenly, a bullet was fired into the table, just missing the man's arm. He looked up to see Rogue smiling sweetly at him, one of her pistols in her hand.

"Now sugah, the boy didn't cheat one durn bit," she told him. "He's just that lucky. If you wanna try _yoahr_ luck, ya can go on with yoahr accusations." She swung her pistol around her finger with ease, giving him a hard glare down. He matched her glare and leapt at the Cajun. The two managed to get into a fist brawl, igniting a fight within the saloon. Remy managed to hold him off rather well but made a misstep and was pinned against a wall, a blade at his throat. He still gave a cocky grin to the man. At first, the stranger didn't understand until he heard a click and felt the cold barrel of a pistol at his temple.

"Ah asked if ya wanted ta try yoahr luck," Rogue said. "Seems ya wanted ta. Drop the knife." During the fight, Rogue's hat had fallen off, showing her spark of white hair. The man growled, looking at her then back at the Cajun, seeming to sum the two up.

"Ain't worth it anyway," he grumbled, quickly making his leave. Remy managed to gather up the money he'd fairly (for the most part) won while Rogue got on a table and shot straight to the ceiling. This caused the whole saloon to freeze and look at her as she re donned her hat.

"Thank ya'll for the lovely time," she said. "Enjoy yoahr drink and enjoy yoahr fight. I know plenty a' ya just were waitin' fer this so there ya go." She then bounced off the table beside Remy and the two managed to sneak out before the authorities arrived. The two laughed as they stumbled out onto the street.

"Don' know why dat pussycat t'ought he could do anyt'in when y' had your gun out, chere," Remy laughed.

"Ah have no idea," Rogue replied merrily then her face dropped as she considered. "Although there seems ta be something mighty familiar about him."

"Hey, y' seen one down and out slop, y' see dem all," Remy told her. "C'mon, let's go enjoy a nice dinner at dat restaurant. Courtesy of Monsieur Fluffy." Unbeknownst to the pair, someone else had taken note of the pair and had slipped back into the shadows.

* * *

After the two ate, they made their way to one of the local inns. Remy made his way to the clerk.

"I need a room f' myself and my wife," he said when he noted the suspicious look the clerk had as he looked over at Rogue. "Mais see, we're kind of on de rocks at de moment so deux beds would be superbe." The clerk gave a slight nod.

"And what is the name?" He asked.

"Robert and Abigail Marian Lord," Remy told him. Remy finished up his business with him and the two went to the room. As soon as the door was closed, Rogue spun to face him.

"Why in the world are ya claimin' Ah'm yoahr wife?" She asked haughtily. Remy gave a lazy shrug.

"Cause it's strange fer a man and a woman t' be travelin' toget'er if dey ain't related or married," he told her. "And we don' look related, chere." He gracefully landed on a bed, his hands behind his head and he crossed his ankles. "'Sides, it's a good cover, non? Who would ever suspect a married couple?" Rogue bit her lip and looked at him.

"Fahne, but Ah expect you ta respect mah privacy." Remy gave her an appalled, hurt look.

"Cherie! T' t'ink dat you have so little faith in me."

"The first time we met, ya were tryin' ta flirt with me."

"Good point," Remy replied with a shrug. He sat up and stretched a bit. "Mais, it's gettin' late. We should turn in. Got to plot out our first ever t'eivery toget'er and got a lot of ridin' t' do in the mornin'. Not t' mention go dress shoppin' f' you." Rogue gave him an annoyed, pointed look. "Mais? Can't be expectin' y' to be wearin' men's clothes when we go East or to California." Rogue paused for a moment and contemplated this.

"Ah s'pose ya got a point, Cajun," she commented before laying down on her own bed and staring at the ceiling. After a beat, she asked "Got anythahng ideas goin' on in yoahr head?" Remy shrugged, pulling off his boots.

"I'm t'inkin' a headin' t' Galveston," he told her. "I got a house dere as Robert Lord. Don't do much stealing dere and if we gonna be partners, I s'pose y' should get used to my safe haven."

"Galveston," Rogue muttered, staring hard at the lines in the ceiling. She took pleasure in imagining the cracks were a map to an unknown treasure. "Ah ain't been there since I ran off. That was my steppin' point I s'pose..."

"Mais, we all gotta start somewhere," Remy told her. "Don' t'ink dere's a better place dan Galveston. Nice town. Lots of people t' get lost in." Rogue grinned and nodded. That statement was very true.

* * *

After a long day and night of riding, the man from the brawl made it to his destination. He rode his horse onto the ranch and leapt off of his, knocking on the door. The door opened and a tense looking red haired woman glared at the taller man.

"What is it, Sabretooth?" She asked crossly. Sabretooth gave a shrug.

"Just thought you'd like to know the whereabouts of your daughter, Ms. Darkholme," he said with a toothy grin. The woman's amber eyes grew wide and she quickly allowed the man in.

"Explain yourself," Raven snapped.

"She's runnin' with some Cajun guy," Sabretooth stated. "Judgin' from his eyes, I'd bet he's the Diable Blanc...Gambit." Raven raised an eyebrow, giving him an inquisitive look.

"Gambit, the thief?" She asked, then smirked. "This may just as well work in my favor."


End file.
